


Red Sun Rising

by omnical (general_mustachio)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) is a Dork, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, F/M, Human Catra (She-Ra), Humor, Not Actually Unrequited Love, adora is superwoman, basically!, catra is a journalist, like not kill each other or anything just ruin each others careers to the point of no return, maybe a little action, past crush, past friendship breakup, reconnecting, unknowingly trying to destroy each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/general_mustachio/pseuds/omnical
Summary: Forced to work on the smear campaign against She-Ra together, a friendship begins to spark between Catra and Adora.Maybe this time they'll have the chance to mend their relationship and go for something more?... If they can stop trying to destroy each other, that is.-----A Superwoman AU! Catra is a successful badass/investigative journalist/blogger! Adora is a badass, but is also a total dork and loser! Fight!(Used to be titled SuperLonely)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra) - Side Couple, Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra) - Side Couple
Comments: 14
Kudos: 65





	1. people i don't like

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [vexbatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexbatch/pseuds/vexbatch) for basically being my beta :D And to the **Get It Write Club** crewmembers who have been a great support while writing this fic! Y'all are gems!
> 
> This has been stewing around in my head for weeks now, so... here it is! As always, Kudos&Review is a writer's bread and butter, but I'm also happy if y'all just ended up having a fun time reading! Thank you very much for stopping by :D

Like everything in her wonderful life, it started as an annoyance.

So Fright Zone City suffered twice the amount of property damage within the last month alone.

And sure, some cops beat up and sent a couple of harmless drug users behind bars.

She also missed meeting a whistleblower after being two freaking hours late because of traffic.

Catra didn’t want to give a damn but, at the center of her apathetic black candy coating, she did. She cared a lot.

The traffic jam from Thaymor Square would have been great news material for an article, since a Senator's son seemed to be the reason the gang got into a violent brawl that caused the jam. A pampered kid like that, letting the first bullet loose? Damn, that was the kind of exposé-fodder vultures like her would kill for. Catra would've been a significant lead on the piece too if the carnage hadn't included her pristine black Yamaha.

The first thing she bought with her first paycheck. 

The one thing she loved most in the entire world. 

Her baby.

Damaged by a flying car.

She will never get the dents off without spending a ton of money. And she hated the jagged scratch on its side with a seething passion.

But no.

It was okay.

She tolerated it.

It was _fine_.

Until it wasn’t.

Catra stared at the video playing on her phone, her face neutral. Dispassionate.

“How did she do that?” Scorpia’s voice came from over her shoulder, breathless and in awe.

Catra didn’t respond, seeing too much red. Catra looped the video with a brisk swipe of her thumb and watched it again.

“What's up with her eyes, like? It got all weird.” Scorpia turned to Entrapta who remained busy fixing a computer tower over her desk, engulfed by the wires exploding from its chassis. Along with the half-naked tower, Entrapta’s office space was a mess of computer tech parts and random power tools -- something to worry about if Catra didn't know she used to be a Dryll Robotics Tech student.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if x-ray vision is part of her repertoire,” Entrapta said. “She’s fascinating, isn’t she? A wonder of modern-day science.”

She was also a traitor. Entrapta was a traitor.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but one of our boys is in prison because of her.” Mermista chimed in from behind her desk, her right foot propped up against the edge, drying her painted toenails. If it wasn’t for the cold inflection in her voice, lower life forms might think she was just giving her two cents. “That’s usually a no _bueno_ , E.” 

Catra’s shoulders relaxed at that. At least someone was making proper sense in this room.

“What did Lonnie say again?” Scorpia asked, pulling away from Catra, leaving her to loop the video again and stew in her thoughts.

“It was all a misunderstanding,” Mermista waved her nail brush around. “Things got heated, some stuff was said, one of the pigs dissed Lonnie, and Kyle and Rogelio got rightfully pissed off…”

_‘-- is police business -- ’_

_‘ -- not what it looks like! He -- ’_

“... wondergirl over there scanned them all and found an ounce stuffed in his bag.” She shrugged. “At least that’s what the video description said.”

Scorpia shook her head. “Lonnie found the dealer who slipped the powder in, right? What if we find him and make him confess?”

“Scorpia, I’m not sure if the rock you live under is legit,” Catra said. “But Rogelio’s a 'big scary guy' from the Fright Zone while the drug dealer's a fucking Prime boy yuppie. Try explaining that to the authorities. Nope, no dice, it won’t be as easy. Not with our police records.”

“We can always try?” Scorpia said. “We’re the vigilante squad! If we can expose some jerk guy’s dirt, it’s us, right?”

Catra raised an eyebrow, frowning at Scorpia's hopeful expression. 

“Right?” Scorpia tried again, smiling nervously.

“You’re over-inflating our job description here, Scorp. We’re journalists, not vigilantes.” Catra growled, lowering her phone. “We don’t incite mobs to get a person out of police custody. At least, not without leaving a huge mess behind.”

“I think it’s a little possible?”

“Okay, I don’t wanna be, y’know, more of a bummer, but she’s right. Rogelio’s one of us,” Mermista added. “What if people connected the dots and found out we’re behind The Eye? As your official marketing person, it’s my job to, like, put my foot down on all this. Figuratively.”

“Oh,” Scorpia said. “I think we have another problem.”

Catra sighed and closed her eyes. “What now?”

“What if this super person works with the FZPD and uses Rogelio to sniff us out?” Scorpia asked. “It’s not far-fetched to think she’s telepathic too, right? Maybe she can read minds? Oh, that’d be so cool.”

Entrapta gasped. “That _would_ be cool.”

“You guys are so not helping here,” Mermista said, blowing on her drying nails.

Catra watched the video again. 

This time Entrapta joined Scorpia, the two of them peering over Catra’s shoulders. They held their breath as they watched Rogelio punch her face. The golden figure hardly even flinched.

“Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. We’re not sure what other abilities this meta-human has, but I’m excited to find out more. Imagine it,” Entrapta’s jaw grew slack, her eyes shimmering as she continued: “Someone of our species. Human. A Homo Sapien with superior genetics...”

“We know what humans are, Entrapta,” Catra’s words were unfortunately ignored as Entrapta left their plane of existence:

“Someone out there who exhibits so much endless capacity for power. What else can she do? Where did she come from? What’s her source of energy? Did she gain her powers gradually over time, or was she born with it?”

“I’ll find out.”

Everybody, even Entrapta, paused and seemed to wake up from the spell they were in.

Scorpia cleared her throat. “Uh… What?”

“I can find out who she is,” Catra said. “And I’ll make sure she knows who exactly she fucked with.”

Scorpia shared a worried look with Entrapta. “Um.”

“By being an enormous, big-headed, glowy -- ”

“Okay…”

“.. goddamn sonofa - “

“Catra?”

“... giant _asshole_.”

Scorpia was the only person in the room staring at Catra with a hand over her face. Entrapta shrugged her shoulders and went back to soldering motherboards. 

Mermista mumbled to herself, wondering if she should use another shade of blue for her other foot.

“Aren’t you taking this a bit too personally, Wildcat?”

Catra settled an unenthused sneer in Scorpia’s direction and crossed her arms. “Says someone who works in The City Eye?”

The larger woman looked sheepish to receive it, at least.

Because the City Eye was, of course, all about taking everything personally.

They founded the anonymous cyber-journalist's wet dream in the middle of political unrest. When the Etherian State office almost collapsed, someone had to let the truth out. It was just supposed to be a project. A one-time thing. But after a month of constant online posting -- following rallies and protests, covering and predicting raids, interviewing members of head parties -- they had a running company with an outstanding audience hanging on to their every word. Overnight, The City Eye became a major player in the online news outlet business, rivaling even the Daily Moon.

Their team was only a quarter of the Daily Moon’s entire office staff.

And now one was in police custody.

“Besides, bitch ruined my bike. I need compensation for that shit.” 

“She also got Rogelio behind bars?” Mermista prompted.

“ _And_ she fucked with our team.” Catra said, “We’re still paying Lonnie, Rogelio, _and_ Kyle while they’re figuring this shit out. No, I want blood. I wanna know who she is, expose this asshole, and show her she’s not as invulnerable as she thinks.”

“I think you’re missing a small, tiny little thing, Wildcat.”

Scorpia gulped as Catra sent her a 'don't even with me' glare.

“All valid! Valid feelings. I love your honesty. A part of me super agrees.” She said. “But counterargument: she’s been doing a lot of good stuff, too. She did save a bunch of people off a falling building yesterday.”

Catra threw her phone on her cluttered desk, scoffing in disbelief. “And who do you think caused that building to fall, Scorp? The only thing strong enough to topple an entire building sure can’t be Fright Zone’s crisp winter weather.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. At least Scorpia was looking more thoughtful as she processed Catra’s rebuttal. “Look, I know she’s done good. A lot of good. Whatever. But who is this person? All we know is she used to be in Brightmoon,” She growled the last word, spitting it out like a foul thing. “And now she’s here. In our turf.”

To Catra's surprise, Entrapta was the next one who piped in. “I agree that someone with unimaginable power is cause for concern.” She said, swirling around a glowing chemical flask with abandon. “A volatile energy source still needs to be contained for it to effectively achieve its intended purpose.”

“And what if she goes crazy with power?” Catra said, “What if this whole thing’s a huge lie and we’re falling for it? She does a complete one-eighty the moment we turn our backs on her, and she starts juggling people for fun?” She grabbed her phone back from her desk and searched for a timestamp on the video. Catra paused it and showed the image to her team:

A police officer complimenting the super idiot for clout. 

“What if she ends up working with the wrong people?”

Scorpia nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah. Point. A lot of points, actually. So,” She looked around expectantly. “What’s next, chief?”

Mermista relaxed back in her seat. Her painted toes wiggled on her desk as she regarded Catra with something akin to admiration. “Think you can figure out her secret identity, Vasquez?”

“Watch me,” Catra said with a smirk, sitting behind her desk and firing up her laptop. “I’m the fucking best.”

* * *

**==THE CITY EYE==**

** 👁️ **

**> (FRONT PAGE)**

**> > TITLE: Fright Zone City Under Brightmoon Invasion!**

>>> For the past few months, The Golden Child of Brightmoon City was spotted within Fright Zone City limits, mostly heading fist-first towards danger and getting involved in FZ City’s turf wars. Now is it just me, or maybe she should mind her own damn business?

>>> WONDERTIGHTS have undeniably saved many lives while destroying a couple of buildings along the way -- causing both property and collateral damage. 

>> >But what is her intention of running around and saving the people in _our_ city?

>> >As anyone would know of Brightmoon’s disposition towards us ‘lowly’ dwellers of Fright Zone, there has always been a price to pay whenever they decide to associate with us. And this seems like a direct action to involve themselves with our so-called 'Law Enforcement' agency, the FZPD …


	2. high enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An update on the beleaguered trio. 
> 
> Someone mentions Reddit and things get chaotic for a while.
> 
> Catra leads the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to [Wolfie1991](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfie1991/pseuds/Wolfie1991) for putting up with my screaming in her dms all week about this. You're a star, mdudio! <3
> 
> As always, Kudos&Review is a writer's bread and butter, but I'm also happy if y'all just ended up having a fun time reading! Thank you very much for stopping by :D

Working an illegal job didn’t give them the best office environment.

It was already a stretch calling themselves a 'company' when they were right on top of an Asian food and herbal store front.

The more nondescript the location, the better.

And their place was just that: an apartment _and_ an office.

Finding a place to hunker down was the first thing they worried about when The City Eye was just a spark in Catra's mind. She and Scorpia, fresh from community college. Entrapta: a disgraced robotics major from a prestigious university. And Mermista who just... seemed to pop up one day, situating herself into their lives a few months after meeting Entrapta. They didn’t even know where she lived.

(When pressed, she'd say she was their Public Relations department. So far, the FBI they were expecting years ago hadn’t kicked their door down yet, so nobody questioned her.)

Despite their small living room slash office space, one bathroom, three bedrooms, and a kitchenette in the corner -- they made it work.

It didn't hurt that their equipment was beyond impressive. Certainly ten times more expensive than their monthly rent. Add in a bunch of computer nerds with under the desk royalties from viewership, website clicks, and P.I. work -- and their apartment looked more like a storage room for an electronics shop. Five giant desktop towers, two of which were unused and crammed open in a corner, and ten 25" monitors. Most of them looming around Entrapta's desk like a control terminal in a 90s sci-fi movie. They also eventually got used to having wires all over their floor, so yeah, it was a mess. But it was their mess.

And Catra knew, in this messy ass room, with all these nerdass people -- this is where the world was going to change.

Of course, she didn't expect to find a particular blonde, blue-eyed, caucasian girl right away. It was daunting enough to see Entrapta's country demographic search results, which looked more like a goddamn phone book.

“Cut out the ones who are shorter than five-eight," Catra said, thumbing through her tablet’s touch screen. It showed row upon row of faces, aligned with the person’s age, bio, and full passport name. No matter how many times she blinked, they all looked alike. “And find out the ones who have a gym membership. Let’s see how many buff fitness nuts appear.”

That’ll cut the number down to less than half. Hopefully.

“Do you guys think I’m in the search results?” Scorpia asked from behind her stacks of papers and files. Being the only one who wrote her articles by hand made her desk the messiest out of all of them, and it was a curse she managed with the grace of a bull in a room full of delicate pottery. “Wait, no,” She groaned. “ I don’t have blue eyes. Ah man, nevermind.”

“Scorpia, _focus_ ,” Catra said. “Our only frame of reference is Rogelio. Wondertights was a few inches taller than him, and he’s a big guy. What else we got?”

“What if one of her abilities was _shapeshifting_?” Entrapta perked up from her laptop, her eyes dazzling in a way that made Catra fear working in their own home. “Probably unlikely, but wouldn’t it be amazing to study someone who could shapeshift? To physically alter their form on a subatomic level requires an incredible amount of ener-- “

"She doesn't. She can’t shapeshift, too, that's just cheating," Catra huffed, letting her tablet plop on her lap. "If she can, and that's a big if, then we're fucked." She groaned. "It shouldn't be this fucking hard to search for a freak."

“True,” Entrapta said. “I calculate that it might take us exactly four to five years to find out who she is. If she can shapeshift, that is.”

“Nope.” Catra shook her head, “I refuse to believe she has that shit too. If she can, evidence of that ability would’ve shown up months ago, and she doesn't seem like the type to hold back. If you know what I mean.”

"No. What do you mean?” Entrapta asked.

"That she's dumb."

"Impulsive?"

"That's called being a dummy."

"The possibility’s still there." Scorpia shrugged, "It's like we're trying to find a ghost here. A weird, glowy, really pretty ghost…”

“She’s not pretty.”

“... who may or may not be Catra's type..."

" _Excuse_ me?"

Scorpia and Entrapta shared a look.

Catra opened and closed her mouth a few times, her wide eyes blinking rapidly. "You are _not_ implying that I -- "

"That you, displaying classic signs of intense obsession towards a fine, meta-human specimen suggests an actual interest and desire to increase your personal connection?” Entrapta grabbed her recorder from somewhere, turned it on, and began to speak into it. “Perhaps also inspiring an inconvenient sexual attraction for this She-Ra subject and -- " She stopped when she noticed Scorpia, who began to not-so-discreetly shake her head. Scorpia made a cutting gesture with her hand, and Entrapta finally turned off her recorder. "No. Why would we think that?"

“I’m not obsessed because I find her -- “ Catra sputtered, “ _Attractive_. I’m obsessed because Wondertights stands for everything we hate. Like those powerful fucks in Brightmoon City.” She stood up and began to pace behind her desk. “Just because she’s nine-feet tall and glows doesn’t mean everybody wants to make out with her. Especially not me.”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

“Indubitably.”

“Ugh,” Mermista lifted her head from her desk and blinked sleepily, “Would you guys pipe down? I’m trying to work over here.”

Catra grabbed her leather jacket from the back of her computer seat, and marched to the door. “Whatever, you weirdos,” she said, putting her jacket on. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. I’m going out.”

"Where to?" Scorpia asked, pretending to write in her notebook.

"For a walk."

  
  


She stared at the pub sign.

The bar was a familiar place during her formative years as a young adult several years ago. All alone for the first time in the big city, heartbroken, angry, and dangling on the edge of depression.

Back then, there were no other comforts for her other than whiskey and beer. Staring at the bottom of pint glass after pint glass, drinking shots like water, but now…

Catra rolled her neck, blew out an exhale, then entered.

She squinted as her blue and yellow eyes readjusted to the dim lights of the pub. Made warm with nothing but bright orange lamp sconces, sequestered next to every table against the stark wooden walls.

A tall, stocky woman in her mid-thirties wearing an eyepatch attended the bar, her long dark hair pulled back to a ponytail. The squeak of her wiping a beer glass greeted Catra as she entered, and the bartender nodded as she walked past.

"Vasquez. Long time no see. The usual?"

"Just a glass," Catra said. “What’s your special today?”

“Wings.”

“Hm.”

Catra drummed her fingers on the countertop table as Octavia began to prepare her drink. Her eyes scanned the pub, stopping when she saw the two people she agreed to meet with today. 

One of them was a tall, dark woman wearing a jacket and frown. Her black dreads pulled back neatly, showing a troubled expression on her face. The other was a willowy blonde guy who seemed to be busy playing with his camera. Fidgeting with the buttons repeatedly like a nervous tic. 

“They’ve been waiting for you for thirty minutes. Must be important.”

“I’m their boss. I start the meetings whenever I want.”

"Want me to bring your drink to your table, then, your highness?"

"Yeah. And put it on my tab, jerk."

“Keep it classy, asshole.”

Catra sauntered over to the corner nook table, tucking her gloved hands in her jacket pockets. She caught the other woman's gaze.

Catra stopped and studied them both, eyes roaming up and down their frumpled clothing, the dark shadows under their eyes, their grim countenance. “You guys look like shit.”

"Gee. Thanks," Lonnie smirked. "Look who the cat dragged in, Kyle."

“Funny.” Catra collapsed on the opposite seating in front of Lonnie and Kyle. She sighed, unbuttoning her jacket open when she felt the room become too warm. "I came here from the goodness of my own heart, and this is how you greet me?"

"Bite me, Vasquez."

"How the hell are you guys doing? How's Rogelio?"

"Pissed off," Lonnie said, taking a sip of her drink. A beer, frothy and cold with condensation running down her fingers. Catra inhaled, taking her eyes off the cold glass, and steepled her fingers together. "Who wouldn't be? We tried to explain our side of the story after they took him away, but nobody gave a shit."

"Did you call the lawyer I referred you to?"

"About to." Lonnie said, turning to look at her boyfriend, and adding dryly: "Kyle here accidentally lost the number you sent us."

Kyle sank into his seat when Catra glared at him. "I got it back this morning, no harm done, right?"

"Anyway,” Lonnie said, waving away Kyle’s pout. “We'll call her and get this thing sorted out. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s my job to worry, Lon.”

“Yeah. We got this. But how about you?" Lonnie took another drink, then leaned against the table when Catra didn't respond. She raised an eyebrow. "So?”

Catra also raised an eyebrow, this time towards Lonnie’s suggestive tone of voice. “So?”

“We're more curious about what you guys got going on in the control room."

The bartender appeared next to Catra, sliding her a glass of lemon water on the table. “Want the wings to go, brat?”

“Yeah. Make it a big plate, with a ton of tiny fries.” Catra said. “I need to feed a whole cavalry. Don’t hold back.”

The bartender nodded at Catra’s quick “Thanks” and disappeared into the kitchen this time, whistling and trying to seem like she wasn’t listening in.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lon," Catra said, taking a sip of her drink. "Just a project I'm... personally invested in."

"Gods, you're really gonna do it, aren't you?"

"Oh, Lonnie. You're acting like you don't know me at all." Catra smirked. "Confidentially, we're on the move, if you know what I mean."

"Ballsy move."

"Like you don't approve?"

"True. I'd love to join you guys, but," Lonnie elbowed Kyle, snapping him away from his camera. "We're here to ask you for a month-long leave when Rogelio gets out."

Catra took a sip. "Guessed as much."

"Paid leave, Vasquez."

"I _guessed_ as much," She grouched, "In fact, make it two months, you guys deserve it. Don't worry,” She said, after seeing Lonnie was about to interrupt. “We'll have it covered."

"Will you?" Lonnie asked, her lips pressed into a thin line. "This is the first time we've ever taken a day off, much less a month off.”

“I can make it a week if you -- “

“Oh hell no.” Lonnie looked like she was about to kick Catra’s leg under the table. “We're taking two months, but who are you gonna hire to take our place?"

"That means getting a new person in, Lonnie," Catra said. "I’ll be hiring no one."

Lonnie blinked. "No one?"

“Eh,” Catra shrugged. "I can do most of the fieldwork."

"Your photography skills are fucking terrible, Catra."

"What?" Catra bristled, grabbing her phone from her jacket pocket. "I'll show you terrible." She navigated to her gallery page and showed Lonnie the few photos she took during a previous job. A picture of her boots. A picture of a tree. A food snap. Catra crossed her arms over her chest. "Tell me those aren’t the best damn pictures you've ever seen?"

“These aren’t the best damn pictures I’ve ever seen,” Lonnie said blankly. "This one has your thumb on it."

"It happens!"

"They all look really blurry."

"Shut up Kyle."

"Case in point?" Lonnie gestured at Catra's sad 'portfolio' of her camera work. "Kyle here got some actual pro photos he took that day."

Kyle promptly placed his camera down - almost dropped it on the table, in fact - and rifled for a manila folder from his backpack. "I think you'll like these, chief." He said, handing Catra the small package.

Catra grinned, turning the folder around. She opened it and pulled out a few photos from the package, her eyes widening when she realized Kyle had captured moments that weren't shown from the video. Pictures of Wondertights. Far-off pictures, close-ups, even a blurry one where she was in the middle of running off.

"Good job, Kyle." She meant it, too.

"Thanks."

"This one looks a bit..."

"Oh, I took that one in the middle of getting punched in the gut by one of the officers."

“It’s still better than your disaster pictures," Lonnie said.

"Shut. I’ll have you know, I -- " Catra singled out one clear-cut picture of Wondertights, and looked at it with seething intensity. It showed a perfect profile of _her_ golden hair shining in the sun. Disgusting. "I'll pay you guys extra for these." She said. "When you get Rogelio out -- "

"When?"

"Trust me. When you get Rogelio out, you three should go somewhere else. Another continent. I dunno, go to Paris or something. Heard it'll be your anniversary next month."

“We were planning to relax somewhere far away from Fright Zone,” Lonnie said, placing a hand on Kyle’s gloved palm. He smiled, his face burning red. Catra had to physically stop herself from giving them shit by taking another sip of water. “Might as well be Europe, right babe?”

  
  


It was an hour after midday when she finally left Lonnie and Kyle in the pub.

Catra huddled in her leather jacket, flipping the collar up, and tightening her maroon scarf under her chin. It didn’t do much to prevent her tits from freezing off, but at least she looked the part of the regular Fright Zone City resident: pissed off and unapproachable.

The world didn’t call Fright Zone City the blackened hole in America’s 21st century for nothing. It was the home of the hardest, toughest people who could ever think to survive a cutthroat environment. Some people die here; some people lived to die here. Some people just wanted to live. Some people, like her and her crew, learned to thrive.

At the end of the day, this was her home, Catra thought, watching a homeless man sleep on the side of a computer parts shop.

 _Street rats_ , her foster mother called them all.

Catra walked past the electronics shop. Then stopped, doubling back, before carefully approaching the sleeping man.

A hundred won’t save him, but it might help.

She walked away, schooling her face back to pissed off and unapproachable.

In Catra’s honest to god opinion, the so-called ‘rats’ of the world -- rats like _her_ \-- wasn’t the problem. Despite what Dr. Weaver thought, they all worked hard, played hard, and played their _cahones_ good enough to survive. Smart in their own way. Strong in situations other humans couldn't handle. Muggings, death threats, getting beat up and thrown off a bridge? Catra went through it all.

The honest to god truth was, the sky dwellers in Brightmoon City stole every bit of light from everybody else. Watching the rest of the world, high up in their glass towers. Ready to be toppled. Seeing Wondertights willingly _give_ her powers to those Brightmoon bastards for months, maybe even years, sent a shiver down Catra’s spine.

Entrapta was right.

Power, Catra thought, can corrupt if left unchecked.

She eventually reached a rare, but familiar gentrified area of the city, stopping in realization.

Catra shook her head, then looked around as if waking from a daze. She peered up at one of the few skyscrapers looming above the fallen masses. One of them, in particular. 

Its immaculate walls were a stark white, even in the distance, its windows tinted green. Security guards dotted the entrance, all armed. She still remembered the minimalist white lobby and the giant fountain in the middle; the green lamp lights by the lobby tables, the uncomfortable lime-green box seats. She can still see the ornate marble floors leading to the wide reception desk, and the smiling people behind it who were all probably dead inside.

Every floor was a carbon copy of a copy of a copy. Every cubicle the same. Every worker, with their starched white shirts and green-tie uniforms -- faceless.

Prime Industries.

Power. 

Power from people who perceived themselves as limitless can do so much damage.

Catra would know.

She turned around and walked away.

  
  


“I got it!” Entrapta exhumed herself from greasy paper plates of tiny fries and wings. She sat up with a greasy, pointed finger in the air. “I can create a code that can face-read every blonde-haired, blue-eyed individual caught in security cams and CCTVs. That way, we can have a machine do all the face-scanning instead of us.”

“Entrapta, that is morally reprehensible and violates the privacy of every individual,” Catra said. “As long as you focus it on our assignment, I like it”

“GREAT.”

“So while that’s happening," Scorpia said, chewing on a half-eaten wing. "What’re we gonna be up to, chief?”

“I found something,” Mermista said, lying supine on their one singular couch as if she barely worked at all while Catra was gone. “Some guys on Reddit -- “

“No,” Catra said.

“Formed this fan group -- “

“Not Reddit.”

“And a lot of fans are totally dedicated to finding ‘superfacts’ about her,” Mermista said. “For real, though, I found out she likes to jog around Central City Park at five in the morning sometimes.” She snorted. “God. Who wakes up at five in the morning, wearing _tights,_ to jog? It’s, like, the middle of November.”

“We’re not using internet 'facts' for this,” Catra said, grabbing another handful of fries from Entrapta’s side of their tiny kitchen table. “We’re going for actual facts only, Merms.”

“Why not?” Entrapta asked. “The internet has solid information. Sometimes. Most of the time.”

“Look,” Mermista sat up. “As our group’s social media person -- “

“We don’t even know what you do,” Catra said.

“ _As your social media person_ ,” Mermista said. “I am just saying, you can get more shit done online than without. And I'm not just talking about fun facts.”

“Such as?”

“Duh, we can do networking. I have the contact number of the guy who’s, like, the president of her fan club. Speculative leads at this point are something we can work with, right?”

“Yeah, I heard about this thing,” Scorpia said, nearly knocking Catra off her seat when the larger woman leaned against her. “There were several people online who managed to crack a cold case somewhere.”

“Ugh. Fine,” Catra pointed at Mermista with a chicken wing. “You’re in charge with Reddit or whatever. I’m on the field, though. With you eggheads behind the desk, what am I supposed to do? Get any leads on where she might emerge with her pajamas half-on. Gimme a list of places people have seen her in. Gimme everything she’s ever said and done on the radio, the papers, television, Scorpia.”

“Gotcha Wildcat.”

“I want all the news footage that has her shiny, annoying mug on national news. International. Local. Whatever.”

“After lunch…?” Scorpia asked.

“No. I want barbecue sauce all over our equipment.”

“That’s sorta gross, chief.”

“Yeah,” Catra raised an eyebrow and popped a fry in her mouth. “I meant after lunch.”


	3. from the edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra meets the President of the She-Ra Fanclub.
> 
> An unfortunate realization.
> 
> Catra decides to meet the ghosts of her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very warm THANK YOU to the lovely [vexbatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexbatch/pseuds/vexbatch) for helping me beta this fic! (seriously, i wouldn't have finished the ding dang chapter this early without em' xD)
> 
> I also wanna thank my friend [Wolfie1991](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfie1991/pseuds/Wolfie1991), for listening to all my screaming about this fic. She has the patience of a saint.
> 
> And finally, thank you very much for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :D Onward!

“Ms. Greengrass?”

Catra perked up from where she sat slouched in her seat and looked up over her glasses. She barely kept herself from snorting as the screen name she saw on Reddit a few weeks ago came to mind. “Three-sixty noscope underscore ninety-three.” She arranged the glasses on her face, straightening up and primly crossing her legs. “You’re here early.”

He was just around Catra’s age, wearing a tweed vest and a white shirt. He looked every bit a scholar compared to the rough and tumble crowd Catra usually surrounded herself in. She didn’t know what to make of him other than she hated him immensely. Well, maybe ‘hate’ was too strong a word…

His online name was 360noscope_93, for godsakes.

“Actually, that’s Mr. Three-sixty noscope underscore ninety-three.”

Okay so maybe he wasn’t all that bad.

The man took his blue backpack off his shoulder and set it into one of the free seats with a _thunk_. With his other hand, he set his cappuccino mug down on the table with minimal spilling.

“Whoops. Heh. A pleasure to meet you! My real name’s Bow Archer,” he said, reaching over to shake her hand, which she took. “President of the She-Ra fan club. Welcome to Brightmoon! So you’re a fan of She-Ra too?”

Bow smiled, broad and genuine, and Catra was tempted to tear her smart jacket off, mess up the neatly tied bun she cursed her hair with, and run back to the bus stop. Being here in Brightmoon City, alone. Wearing _makeup_ . And a _pantsuit_. Pretending to be amongst the squeaky-clean masses. It all made her itch. And here, deep in enemy territory, she was ready to jump out of her own skin.

_‘What, intimidated by a nerd, Vasquez? Get it together.’_

She was fine. She was different now. She wasn’t that scared little girl anymore.

Catra inhaled, then cleared her throat, hoping her pompous British accent from Manchester was still on point. “I’m, uh -- “ _What’s the word?_ “Pleased. Honored to meet you, too. You’re quite right, I am a huge fan. Big fan. She’s the best, isn’t she? I’m basing my Master’s thesis on her.” She took a quick sip of her coffee, trying to wash the bitterness off her tongue from her painful ass lies. Blatant lies. Horrible lies. “She-Ra --” _Wondertights._ “ -- is a... passionate subject of mine.”

At least that was the truth.

“Oh, gosh, I know what you mean!” Bow said, bouncing excitedly in his seat. “You’re right, she. Is. Amazing. I’m glad I can finally talk to someone in person about her.”

“Yep. Yes. Very much so.”

“I’ve only ever seen a superperson with both superstrength _and_ superspeed together.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “Of course she's the only real superperson we’ve seen so far.”

_Will this guy ever stop talking?_

“So, Ms. Greengrass -- “

“Please, call me Eliza.”

“Eliza! How long have you been a journalist?” he asked. “I am extremely invested in this piece you’re planning to write about She Ra. I’ve already told the guys about it back on She-Reddit.”

“A while,” Catra said, twisting her cup of coffee just to have something to fidget with. In her head, she was desperately trying to figure out how to get to the point already without all this small talk. “I’m curious myself, when did you become a fan of She-Ra?”

“I think I’ve always been a fan, in some way.” Bow looked away thoughtfully. 

He took a careful sip of his hot beverage, before continuing. “I collected comic books as a kid, y’know? I’ve always wanted to be a superhero back when I was ten. My future fiance had to put up with me accidentally hitting her with my bow and arrow toy set. Even watched the old superhero movies, the ones that didn’t suck as much.” He winked. “Know what I mean?”

 _No_.

“Yes,” Catra said, drumming her fingers on the tabletop, without letting her polite smile waver. “So, you think she’s here to be a hero?”

“What else is she doing all this stuff for?” Bow chuckled, spreading an arm out with abandon, almost upsetting his drink. “She’s wearing a really cool suit -- “ _Not really._ “She has superpowers.” _Unfortunately._ “Fighting bad guys while saving people all over the state.” _Notwithstanding the needless violence and destruction of property..._ “She’s already saved so many people in Brightmoon, I can’t imagine her intentions being otherwise.”

“Right, right, but -- “ _Gimme the goods already, four-eyes._ “Tell me more about her. What about the first time you saw her? On television? In the papers?”

“Oh, I saw her in person, actually.” Bow said. “I think it was the first time she ever appeared in public, too. I even caught it on my phone!”

_Bingo._

Catra’s eyes brightened, and she folded her arms and leaned against the table. “Do tell?”

“Check this out.” Bow opened his bag and grabbed a stack of printed A4 articles and photographs in a messily-handled paper folder. He flipped through each one, grabbing a few of them, and placing his chosen articles and photographs on the table. “Is your work going to be a think piece?” he asked. “About her effects on the world and how it has changed people?”

Catra’s eyes glossed over. She blew the steam from her coffee, “More or less.”

Most of the printed articles were in various stages of disarray; folded and refolded, while some of them looked like he just pulled them off a corkboard, their edges frayed and torn. He tapped a finger on a newspaper article. “Some of these articles and pictures were strange occurrences the people of She-Reddit have collected over the years. Not just in the Etherian State, but all over America.”

Catra scanned over the dates, then raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me she’s been doing this saving people thing for three years now?”

“We were thinking nine years.” He said. “People have just started putting the pieces together.” 

Catra began to quickly read the headlines one by one.

Thirteen saved from a burning oil rig. 

A woman almost fell from bridge, saved by a hooded stranger.

A schoolbus saved from sinking in a river. 

Catra narrowed her eyes.

“You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed these, would you?”

“Please feel free! I can always print more.”

“Thank you. Now,” Catra smiled, “You said you caught her on your phone when you saw her for the first time?”

  
  


* * *

_The building continues to burn behind her imposing form. From afar stands the people She saved, each of them in varying levels of shellshock and recovery._

_The camera jostles, and a voice (which definitely sounds like Bow) murmurs, breathless:_

_“Ohmygosh, that’s Her.” he says, clearly talking to himself since nobody responds._ _The camera shakes again, the person behind it presumably running, and the vision of Her grows closer. “Excuse me, hi!”_

_She stops talking to the firefighter, who looks just as shell shocked as the people around them, and turns to look at him. She pauses, face unreadable. She turns to look away._

_“Thank you for saving everyone.”_ _She begins to walk off, but Bow follows her with his camera._ _“Can I ask you a few questions?”_

 _“_ No _.”_

_“Oh.” Bow slows to a stop. “Well, can you tell me your name, at least?”_

_She sighs, turns her head for a fraction of a second to catch his eyes._

_“... She-Ra.”_

_And she disappears in a flash._

* * *

_“What was that? I didn’t hear you the first time.”_

“I said you were right,” Catra grouched. She wasn’t sure if Entrapta was being smug, or if she genuinely didn’t hear her. Knowing the other woman, it was probably the former. “Our target’s been running around everywhere, even outside the state. Shit, she might not even live in Brightmoon _or_ Fright Zone. She might be in fucking Kansas for all we know.”

_“Ahah! Like I said, her living in a different city was sixty-six percent probable, but I think it’s great that you can confirm it.”_

“Yeah, well, don’t be too cocky. Our job just got way harder.”

 _“But challenges are supposed to be fun, Catra,”_ Entrapta said. _“This is a test of mettle! Our combined intellect versus a superhuman!”_

Catra closed her eyes and sighed. She was starting to get a headache, and she doubted it was because of the tight knot of her hair bun. She pulled the hair tie off, letting her wild mane loose and free. 

“I doubt she can hide from us too long then, considering her ‘intellect’.”

_“She has displayed advanced intelligence through quickly discerning situations within an allosecond alone -- “_

“Entrapta, smart people can be ass-to-elbows dumb, too,” Catra said, fully facing the bus window and nudging the snoring man next to her when he leaned a bit too close. “This isn’t our intellect against hers, this is us waiting to catch this dumbass slip and be a dumbass.”

  
  


Catra took another red pin and stuck it on the map taped to her wall. 

She took a step back, taking in the colorful assembly of pins spreading outwards with the Etherian State in the middle. Salineas. The Crimson Waste desert. The Region of Snows. Her eyes landed on the place where the pins were most densely gathered.

Seaworthy.

“Fuck me.”

Out of all the places in the world, it had to be Seaworthy.

She leaned forward, hands gripping the headrest of her chair, and bit her lips in thought.

“Fuck it.”

Catra was already packing up her duffle bag when Scorpia wandered into her room, staring at the jar in her hand, ignorant of the flurry of clothing flying from her closet.

“Hey, Catra, have we been eating expired jelly this whole time or…?” Scorpia frowned when she realized Catra wasn’t listening, and as she looked up, realized her friend was too busy stuffing a roll of shirts alongside the only two pairs of pants she’s ever owned. “Are we going somewhere? Wait, are you going on an assignment?”

“Wondertights.”

Scorpia rolled her eyes and sighed. “Of course this is about Wondertights.”

“I’m going to Seaworthy.”

That took Scorpia aback, the jar of jelly almost slipping from her large hands. “ _Seaworthy_ ? You’re going to Seaworthy _alone_?” 

“Yeah.”

“That Seaworthy?”

“Any other ‘Seaworthies’ out there, dummy?” 

Catra began to remove the pins from her map one by one, scattering them all over her already messy desk. “I just found a pattern, Scorp. She’s been going around America, yeah, but I think most of the headlines more than six years ago are bogus. Something’s not right. I need to retrace her steps to follow through.”

Scorpia stood by the door, speechless, as Catra pulled the map from the wall with an impatient growl, ignoring the few pins still stuck here and there. “Are you sure you wanna go to Seaworthy? It’s been years...”

“Yes, Scorpia, I’m sure.” Catra said, folding the map and tucking it in one of the pockets of the duffle bag. She stood back and studied her bag as she considered forcing an expensive camera between her rock band t-shirts and old camcorder. “You guys need to hold down the fort while I’m gone. Besides, The Eye can’t stop functioning because of one superhero wannabe. I’ll be fine.”

“But,” Scorpia stuttered. “But it’s Seaworthy. Y’know. _Seaworthy_.”

“I know what Seaworthy is. And,” Catra glared at her. “ _Stop_ saying Seaworthy.” She zipped her duffel bag closed with finality. “I don’t like it, but I gotta do this. That place might have witnesses. She might even live there.”

“Um,” Scorpia felt her mind stumble, as she tried to think of a better way to express her (clearly unwanted) opinions. “I know how important this is to you.”

“Damn right it is.”

“But I was just wondering.“

Catra narrowed her eyes. “Wondering about what?”

“Why… well -- Okay. I think you’re obsessed with this She Ra person a little bit too much, Wildcat,” 

“This again?” Catra grumbled. “I am not obsessed.”

“She’s all you talk about.”

“Only you and Entrapta would think that, Scorpia.” She heaved the duffle bag onto one shoulder, avoiding Scorpia's gaze as her eyes scanned her room.

“Yeah? What does your therapist think?”

“I - you… ugh. Shut up.”

Catra moved to leave, but Scorpia stayed where she stood, her large frame imposing as she filled out the door.

“Get out of my way, Scorp.”

“Just answer me one question.”

Catra groaned. “Fine.” 

“Why do you need to do this?”

“Because it’s our job,” Catra said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She tried to push Scorpia away with a sharp elbow, but the other woman wouldn’t budge. Dammit, her abs were too massive. Catra huffed. “What kind of journalists would we be if we’re not out there trying to find the truth? Besides, imagine the clicks we’re gonna get when we find out who she is.”

Scorpia raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s all this is for?” 

Catra pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know what you’re implying.”

“And you should consider it! Even for just a second.”

“Okay.” She fell silent for a second. “Okay, I considered it. The answer’s still no.”

“Not even a little?”

“No. I am not freaking attracted to her.”

“I can see two things happening here.” Scorpia said. “And neither of them are pretty. We can pull out now and stop this whole thing if you want to.” 

“Yeah? Well I don’t wanna trash this assignment.” Catra leaned back, and despite her shorter stature, stared Scorpia down, her eyes flashing. “I am doing this, Scorpia.”

Scorpia gulped and got out of her way. 

Catra could practically see Scorpia squaring her shoulders, watching as Catra stalked down the hallway.

“Whatever you say, chief. Is your baby still getting fixed? How are you getting there?”

“I’m either renting a car, or you’re dropping me off,” Catra growled, pulling her leather jacket on. She grabbed her keys from the hook by the door and looked at Scorpia expectantly. “Well?”

Scorpia beamed. “Best friends road trip!” She clapped. “Gimme a minute and I’ll get our emergency road trip bag.”


	4. black smoke rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra arrives at Seaworthy and Regrets Everything.
> 
> A new face appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special THANK YOU to my beta for this chapter, [SnowyMountainside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyMountainside/pseuds/SnowyMountainside)! :D You're a hecking GEM! Thanks to vex and toby as well for getting me out of my super funk!
> 
> And lastly, thank you very much for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :D Onward!

Catra peered at a snoring Scorpia, her cheek pressed against the smudged glass with drool sliding down her chin. 

Catra smacked her shoulder to rouse her awake, but she didn’t respond.

“Scorp, we’re here.” Another snore. Catra tried again by shaking her, grunting against the weight of the other woman. “Scorpia!”

Scorpia jerked awake, sitting upright with a dignified snort. “Huh? Wha-?”

“We’re here, dummy.”

“Whoah,” Scorpia shut her tired eyes with a groan, before turning to look at the view outside the window. “You drove all night and didn’t wake me?”

“Thought it’d be better to get your z’s in so you’d have enough energy to drive back home.” Catra said.

“I feel like a pincushion.”

Catra smirked. “Unless you wanna sleep in the motel first before going back?”

“Oh, no, no way.” Scorpia shook her head, cheeks growing warm. She ran a hand down her face, wiping the sleep off her eyes and the drool off her chin. “That’d leave Entrapta  _ and _ Mermista running The Eye. Nope, I’m your right-hand woman for a reason, chief, I gotta get back before they start posting about cryptid sightings again.”

“Just be careful while driving, okay?” Catra said. “Can’t afford to have you out of commission, too.” 

“Gotcha chief.”

Catra opened the driver’s side door and stepped outside, pausing as she looked around the empty parkway. It stole the breath from her lungs, and she had to grip the edge of the car door to center herself. “Damn.” She whispered. “It still looks the same.”

“You okay there, Wildcat?” Scorpia asked, getting out of the car herself, her brows wrinkled in concern. She cautiously approached her friend and cleared her throat. “You sure you’re still up for this? I’ll understand if you just, you know, if you just wanted to see how the place is, then come back home -- ”

Catra snorted. She took a deep breath, leaning back into the car to grab her duffle bag from the passenger’s seat, then closed the door with a loud  _ Slam _ . “It’s fine, Scorp.” She shouldered the strap of her bag. “I’m in the place where my worst memories came from, and I’m gonna be busy searching for a ghost,” she shrugged. “What could go wrong, right?”

Scorpia laughed nervously. “Right.”

“I’ll be okay, Scorpia, promise.”

“Okay,” Scorpia said, but her tense posture still showed her reluctance. She grabbed Catra in a tight hug, who hissed a  _ ‘dammit Scorpia’  _ under her breath. Catra briefly, and maybe  _ thankfully _ , hugged her back, patting her shoulder blades to comfort the big lug. “Just call us when you’re ready to go, okay?”

“Yeah. Make sure nobody touches my desk.”

Scorpia smiled at her and got in the driver’s seat, sending her a mock salute. “Sure thing.”

“And rip Mayor Keldor a new one while you’re at it.”

“You can bet on it, chief.”

Catra took a few steps back as Scorpia sent her a big wave good-bye -- which Catra half-heartedly returned. She backed up the car, and Catra stood there, frozen, as she watched her best friend drive back into the road. 

The car’s taillights disappeared into the morning dark.

  
  


Fright Zone City might just be a city for some people, but to Catra, Fright Zone was her life. 

It was the place where Catra learned how to cheat at cards, ride a motorcycle, rent an apartment. It was the place where she had her first bar fight, got mugged, and the first place she beat up a mugger. It was where she learned to avoid street food, and where she learned how to cook for herself. 

It was where she met Scorpia and Entrapta. 

And where she tasted freedom for the first time. 

Fright Zone...

Fright Zone was her mirror. 

Catra’s looking glass. Showing her past self in perfect silhouette.

The city that made Maria Catarina Vasquez into who she was now. 

After being broken down to nothing but blood, skin, and bone; twisted up until her soul deformed; crushed as she tried to fit into molds of what other people wanted her to be. Later, it turned into molds of who she  _ thought  _ she should be. However, the city  _ made  _ her who she was, beneath all that anger and resentment. Catra could do nothing but grit her teeth as it beat her into shape.

So full of bitterness, seeking revenge in all the wrong places. In all the wrong people. That young, twenty-year-old girl who wanted to hurt other people, and inevitably get hurt in return. Catra’s spiral framed the early years of her friendships. Pushed Scorpia away, and then pulled her back, only to push her away again. She did the same to other people until they got tired of her. 

Entrapta and Scorpia were the only people who stuck around with her throughout that period in her life. They were… good friends. Weird, but good. Maybe that was the reason why they all fit together.

Mermista, too. Maybe.

(even if they still didn’t know what she did).

When Catra turned twenty-one, she turned her focus onto other obsessions. The next two years after were a mess, blurred into small, terrible moments. 

Fright Zone City never claimed to be her savior, it just showed her the worst parts of herself until she was forced to  _ decide _ .

The first time Scorpia picked her up from the side of a road, bruised and beaten up, succumbing to alcohol poisoning and on the verge of getting arrested for violent behavior was the last straw.

They had a talk.

Things changed. Slowly, it did change.

Life was a bitch sometimes, but it was a pill she needed to swallow. One pill turned to two, then three, then four, and before she knew it she eventually felt better. Better than okay, in fact, despite the shakes her antidepressants gave her. One pill turned to two pills a day. And then Catra realized she simply... stopped counting.

And then, well. Then they grew up.

Sometimes, Catra still remembered that angry girl, and in many ways, she was still an angry person underneath. She just expressed it differently now. The City Eye was Catra’s furious love letter for Fright Zone City the moment she conceptualized their first movement. It was as if a fire burned inside Catra when she realized she could do something for the place which helped her turn into the adult she never thought she would be proud of.

Places had power. Places had meaning. Places were like mirrors.

Seaworthy was the opposite of Fright Zone City. 

When Catra took her first steps toward the motel, she froze. It wasn’t nostalgia. She didn’t get that thing people felt whenever they visited their childhood haunts. The sky was still gray, and always threatened too much rain (she remembered running around puddles in a dreary afternoon, two peals of laughter music in her ears).

The sea still breathed as if everything stopped when Catra left (she remembered two pairs of feet running across the ocean tide. Always two, and always together).

Catra hated it.

Catra hated looking at the motel, and thinking,  _ Fuck _ ,  _ it’s still standing. _

After ten years, yeah, it still looked like that seventy-year-old building they used to visit sometimes. Worn, tired, the once cream-colored paint of the walls now brown in many places. The hedges were overgrown, the outside stairs looked crooked in some places, and some windows were foggy. There was a neon sign with burned out letters, flickered at random intervals: ‘Oean Brze otel’. 

Catra thought -- Ten years ago -- only the ‘c’ from ‘Ocean’ was burned out. 

_ At least people knew it was a motel.  _

The person who owned it didn’t give a damn, then. 

Good.

“Hey guy, is Room 101 occupied?”

The relaxed man behind the reception area shook his head, then took a bite of his sandwich. No.

“I’ll take that room, then. Four days, I’ll pay upfront.”

He handed her the keys, and the whole time, his eyes never left the television set by his feet.

She was a masochist sometimes. Curiosity, after all, killed the cat.

  
  


Catra opened the door to her room for the next few days and breathed in the familiarity. One bed, a new television, a small bathroom -- which was squeaky clean at least. 

A lot of framed pictures of dogs. 

She threw her duffle bag on the floor in front of her bed, then collapsed into the mattress. Catra struggled to get her leather jacket off but managed to drape it at the edge of the bed. 

She fell asleep once her head hit the pillow.

  
  


When she opened her eyes, a brief well of panic gripped her confused senses and  _ squeezed _ . She stared at the same ceiling that faced her seventeen-year-old self, cracks and all, and her photographic memory gave her those small details which mercilessly brought her back in time. Catra sat up with a jolt, feeling her heart beat like a drum in her chest. 

She stared at the room and began to hyperventilate. 

_ Forge Street. _

_ Hall Street. _

_ Barr Street. _

It took her a while to remember why she was in this damn place. 

_ God, why do I like to fucking punish myself so much? _

It was her choice to stay here, after all. 

_ Such an idiot. _

No. 

She was not an idiot. 

She could practically hear her therapist chastise her for being self-deprecating again. 

She was fine. She was okay. 

Not keen to be stuck in the past for the next few hours, Catra forced herself to stand up and took another deep breath. She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled through her nose, imagining her room back at home. Imagining her office desk and its mess of folders, coffee cups, and tech drives. 

That done, she took off her boots, went around in her socks, and inspected the room for a while to keep her mind here. Present.

The motel room wasn’t the same as it was before. The television set changed, for instance, and the bathroom tiles repurposed into a white diamond pattern. Even the mattress wasn’t the lumpy one she slept in all those years ago. 

Feeling her stomach tie into knots, Catra grabbed her phone and visited the Magic Meals app for a quick -- she looked at the clock -- late afternoon. Lunch. She had to take her pills.

After a visit to the bathroom, she cracked her knuckles then grabbed her duffle bag. 

Enough playing around.

“Time to get to work.”

The picture frames came off first, a wrinkled nose pointed at the tacky dog pictures. She stacked them in the corner of the room. Next, Catra began to unpack: the news articles first, which she taped one-by-one on her new think-wall, in order of publication. Her notebooks, pens, and sticky notes came next. Her mind could retain information with impeccable detail, but she had to make sense of the information first. 

“So, Wondertights, let’s figure out what happened to you nine years ago.”

Catra crossed out the first article. The report mentioned a fallen beam got stuck and gave two kids enough time to run off to safety. One of the Redditors must have thought it seemed legitimate enough to be a superhero feat, and Bow added it into the pile ‘just in case’. The third looked interesting and was something Scorpia found herself. Someone saved a couple from their upturned vehicle during a snowstorm. Might seem like a typical samaritan, but the person also ripped the doors clean off their hinges. She circled that one.

Catra crossed out the article next to that, then the article next to that. 

She paced in front of her timeline, crossed articles and photographs where the heroes were  _ clearly  _ seen or caught on pictures. None of them were blonde anyway.

She circled articles where the hero ‘died’, but their bodies were never discovered, and highlighted the names of the heroes who  _ were _ mentioned. She planned to send them off to Entrapta later for identification.

Better leave no stone unturned.

With her gaze fixed on the circled articles and photographs on the wall, Catra tilted her head, frowning, then crossed her arms over her chest.

A pattern. There was a pattern there, but what was it?

“The level of danger?” 

For the first few years, most were articles and photographs taken during simpler crimes -- one of them, a picture of a red and blue blur chasing a snatcher. Next were news about deadly muggings, where victims were saved by someone in a hoodie who took bullets for them, only to walk away. 

Saved a falling parachutist. 

Lifted an entire bus from a river. 

Caught someone who fell during a mountain climb gone wrong...

Catra bit the tip of her thumb. “Were her powers still growing?”

A call from her cell phone snapped Catra out of her thoughts. She checked the caller and relaxed when she saw it was from Entrapta. 

Catra turned away from her think-wall and answered the call.

“What’s up?”

_ “Hey, hi, yeah, It’s ME.”  _ Entrapta’s loud voice made Catra wince and pull the phone away from her ear.  _ “Are we planning to extend our search outside Brightmoon and Fright Zone City? You’ll have to do something with the frequency network zones, but yeah.” _

Catra blinked as her mind struggled to piece Entrapta’s question together into something coherent. “What?”

_ “You left before I could ask you,”  _ Entrapta said, then munched something from the other side. _ “You vaaaguely mentioned something about not just being in Brightmoon or Fright Zone, so I was wondering -- “  _

“Okay.” Catra cut her off before she rattled on about explanations she wasn’t patient enough to listen to. “Will it take you a long time to set up?”

_ “Not without your help.” _

“Great,” she huffed out a sigh. If she wanted things done, she had to do it herself. “So what do I need to do, egghead?”

_ “Your phone.” _

Catra paused and held the phone out in front of her. “What, what about my phone?”

_ “I, uh, put something in it.” _

“Entrapta,” she closed her eyes, her nose flared as her fingers pressed against her now aching temple. “Did you install a tracker in my phone?”

_ “Noo.” _ Entrapta said.  _ “I did that ages ago. But!” _

“You installed a tracker in  _ my phone _ ?”

_ “I installed trackers in everybody’s phones.” _

Catra groaned out loud and was about to throw herself in her bed when a knock came from her door. 

“Just keep talking. I’m getting my damn food.”

Catra tucked her phone against her shoulder and opened the door. 

“Hi there, Magic Meals deliver-y!” The delivery person fumbled with a plastic bag and held it up. Catra looked at the bag, seeing spilled sauce from somewhere inside the see-through plastic and...

Catra narrowed her eyes at the person. She leaned to the side and noted the rain, which started while she slept, had finally stopped. “You’re four hours late.”

_ “Who’s four hours late?” _ Entrapta asked.

“No one.” Catra said.

“I’m so sorry, I got… super sidetracked, and -- ” The delivery girl moved to clean her fogged up glasses, “And then I sorta fell because my Vespa went off-road, and…” Catra grabbed the plastic bag from her and pushed a hundred against her chest.

“Forget about it. Anyway, Entrapta?” Catra slammed the door in the delivery girl’s face and got back to her think-wall. “What the hell did you do to my phone?”

Another knock and Catra was tempted to throw said phone into the delivery person’s face. She managed to keep calm and put her bitch face back on as she opened the door. “Hi. The fuck you want?”

“Y-your change?”

“Keep the change.”

“But it’s a hundred -- “

“Don’t care.”

“Wait, just… wait, are you -- ?“

For the second time that night, Catra slammed the door and didn’t think about the delivery girl again.

  
  
  


Adora Gray stared at the door to Room 101. 

“... Catra…?” 


End file.
